Authors: Kallysten
“Very
well,” he says, opening the diary and pulling the pen free from the spine. “Two
days. I’ll write it in.”
Eli
gives him a suspicious look. It’s clear he didn’t expect Calden to yield so
quickly, which means it must have been the right decision to let it go for now.
He writes a few words in about the nine-day experiment. He’s tempted to put in
a note to remind himself to argue about the two-day limit in a week or so, but
he doesn’t know who reads this diary other than himself, and it would defeat
the purpose to inform Eli a new fight is coming. Besides, such a reminder is
probably not needed. That rule is going to get annoying, and fast.
After
writing it in, he thumbs through the rest of the notebook for a moment,
re-reading a few parts. The one about Eli is both intriguing and frustratingly
sparse. He easily understands why there isn’t more there: some of his thoughts
or observations about Eli are not meant for anyone, least of all Eli himself.
But how can Calden add up clues when he doesn’t have all the facts? He’d like
to think he was a factor in Eli separating from Bryce—would like to believe Eli
chose Calden over him—but for all he knows the timing of divorce and illness
was coincidental. It’s against his nature to believe in coincidences, but if he
guessed something different and was wrong…
He
pulls out of his thoughts to find Eli watching him.
“What?”
he says, feeling defensive despite himself, as though Eli had any way to guess
what Calden is thinking about.
“Nothing,”
Eli says, shaking his head once. “I need to go to the store but…”
“But
you don’t want to leave me alone,” Calden says, rolling his eyes. “What if I
say I will not leave the house?”
Eli
considers him for a few seconds. “Is that a promise?”
“If
you need it to be. Yes, it’s a promise.”
It’s
not a hard promise to give, either. Solitude sounds good right now. Eli’s
presence makes it difficult to think.
And
still, when Eli leaves with a promise of his own that he won’t be long, Calden
immediately feels like something is off. Missing. It’s very odd. Being under Eli’s
care is verging on uncomfortable, but not having him there is worse.
Annoyed
with himself, Calden leaves his diary on the armchair and goes to the piano.
From the dust on the cover, it seems it’s been a while since he played. He pulls
a soft cloth from the compartment inside the seat and proceeds to dust the upright
piano, caressing every inch of wood until it gleams. Finally sitting down, he
lets his fingers dance on the keys and plays a few phrases from random pieces,
but soon his fingers still as a thought emerges in his mind.
He
needs to keep a record about Eli, about the way he acts now, about what it
might mean—for example, about his anger today, and the fact that he barely let
it out; about his threat to sedate Calden, and the lack of threat to leave. And
if he can’t put all that in words…
It
takes him only seconds to find blank sheets and a pencil. At the top of the
first page, he writes two words
:
Эли
Райт
. Eli’s name, but Eli wouldn’t know that if he saw it. Then he sets his
fingers on the keys again and endeavors to send himself a message through musical
notes.
October 4
th
Under
Eli’s fingers, Calden’s back was warm, still slick from sweat. He ran lazy loops
over the smooth skin, feeling content beyond words, snug under his living
blanket.
“You
need a shower.”
Eli’s
fingers stilled at that unexpected remark.
“Your
definition of pillow talk leaves something to be desired,” Eli muttered, caught
somewhere between amused and annoyed.
“How
is it pillow talk?” Calden countered. “We’re not in bed.”
They
weren’t, indeed. They lay on the sofa instead, chest to chest, with Calden on
top of Eli. Calden’s cheek was pressed close to the healing tattoo on Eli’s
chest, whose letters he had traced earlier with his fingers then his lips. Their
feet stuck out of the blanket that was their rather flimsy attempt at staying
warm.
“I’m
pretty sure in this scenario I’m the pillow,” Eli said, scratching the nape of Calden’s
neck with a fingernail. “And if I need a shower, so do you, Mr. Tact.”
Calden
raised his head and cocked an eyebrow at Eli. “That was rather the point.”
Eli
blinked, then grinned, happily surprised.
“Oh.
Okay, then. Lead the way.”
He didn’t
know why he was still surprised, actually. Two things had been very consistent
since their relationship had taken this new turn: whenever he woke up and
received the facts, Calden was at first a little incredulous and a little shy,
like he couldn’t quite believe his good luck and was wary of doing something
wrong that would mess it all up. Eli knew the feeling quite well. Then, when he
realized he only had two days ahead of him, he became rather determined on
making the most of his time.
Unless
he was needed at the hospital, of course, but Eli wouldn’t have expected
anything different.
Eli
had asked Calden, that first day when they’d barely left the bed, how
experienced he was. Calden’s shrug and easy dismissal of past ‘flings’ hadn’t
been encouraging for the prospects of their intimate life. Eli had realized
since then the flaw in his thinking. He wasn’t a fling, so whatever Calden had
done—or not done—with others was irrelevant.
As
far as Eli could figure out from tidbits gathered over the course of a month,
the important thing, where Calden was concerned, was that he’d never been
interested in anyone as much as he was in Eli, and that he’d been all but
convinced Eli would never return his interest. Finding out that last part
wasn’t true meant the world to Calden. And seeing that realization strike him,
time after time, had made it quite clear to Eli that those words Calden had so
much trouble saying outright were nonetheless true and heartfelt.
“It’s
not leading the way if you don’t follow,” Calden called out, startling Eli out
of his mental meanderings. Eli had been so caught up in his thoughts, he’d
barely noticed Calden getting up and walking through the room, gloriously nude
and not caring in the least. An unforgivable lapse. Eli hurried after him and
joined him in the bathroom upstairs.
Sharing
a shower wasn’t new to Eli, but it was new to Calden, so Eli took on a passive
role, letting Calden set the pace. Today, it meant letting Calden soap him up
with his bare hands and touch virtually every inch of him. Eli tried to return
the caresses, but Calden batted his hands away.
“You
can have your turn later,” he said in a low-pitched voice that stroked along Eli’s
spine like gentle fingers. “Mine now.”
Whether
‘mine’ referred to his turn or to Eli himself, Eli wasn’t quite sure, nor did
he care, not when Calden’s hands were being replaced by his mouth and Calden
was sliding down to his knees. His tongue, dancing on Eli’s cock, was beyond
talented.
In
just moments, Eli’s knees started to buckle while gasps and moans escaped him
every few seconds. He steadied himself with a hand on the wall and the other at
the back of Calden’s head. Calden looked up from his task, blinking repeatedly
to chase away the water clinging to his eyelashes. The corners of his eyes
crinkled with a look Eli knew quite well, a look that usually accompanied a
wicked, dirty smile he’d never imagined could grace Calden’s lips.
Eli
didn’t last long after that.
Back
on his feet, Calden wrapped his arms around Eli, keeping him upright as he
slowly, gently kissed him down from his pleasure high.
Twenty
minutes later, they were mostly dry and still kissing, although now in bed.
“My
turn,” Eli breathed against his lips. “And after that, sleep.”
Calden
pouted at him. “Not tired,” he said predictably.
Eli
hid his smile in the crook of Calden’s neck, biting lightly. “You’re never
tired. That doesn’t mean you don’t need sleep.”
That
argument—and Eli’s turn—came to a screeching halt when Calden’s phone,
somewhere in his pants pocket on the floor, started ringing.
They
looked at each other, a question passing between them. Answer or not?
On
the night table, Eli’s phone rang as well, making the decision for them.
They
pulled apart and each picked up their respective phones. At the other end of
Eli’s call, Langton informed him the city was under attack and the hospital
needed them if Calden was up to it. Eli looked around at Calden, who was
already hanging up after a quick, “We’ll be there in twenty.”
Eli
grimaced as he watched Calden gather his clothes. “He is up to it,” he told
Langton, aware that Calden was listening. “But he’s going on over thirty hours
by now so you’re not getting more than half a day.”
“We’ll
take what we can have,” Langton sighed, and said his goodbyes before hanging
up.
Calden
had already slipped on underwear and pants, and now sat on the edge of the bed
to put on his socks. His back was to Eli, but Eli could hear a hint of
exasperation in his voice when he asked, “What happens when I reach the
forty-eight-hour mark?”
“You
know what happens,” Eli said, getting dressed as well and ignoring his still
semi-hard cock. “It’s in the diary. After two days, you can stay at the
hospital but only to assist or supervise, not as primary.”
Calden’s
huff conveyed exactly what he thought of that rule—not that Eli needed to be told
again that it was stupid and unnecessary. What Calden ended up saying, however,
was unexpected.
“Rain
check?” he asked, now fully dressed and standing again. He looked oddly unsure
of himself as he rubbed two fingers to his chest.
Walking
around the bed, Eli pressed a kiss to his mouth. “Of course. And you might want
to comb your hair a bit. You look like you’ve been doing exactly what we were
doing.”
Calden
smirked at that before sauntering into the bathroom, throwing over his
shoulder, “You should see what
you
look like.”
When
they finally left for the hospital, they both looked presentable. Calden had
told Samford they’d be there in twenty minutes; they walked out of the changing
rooms twenty-three minutes after receiving their calls. Seven minutes after
that, they were already in the operating room.
Halfway
through the first surgery—the repair of a through-and-through wound that looked
like a demon sword had pierced the soldier’s abdomen—a nurse appeared at the
door to tell Eli that Doctor Langton requested his assistance. Sometimes when
the hospital was very busy, Langton pulled him from his observation role to ask
him to take more direct supervising action in the ER, but Eli was always
uncomfortable when it happened, loath as he was to leave Calden.
His
hesitation had to be obvious, because Calden, without looking up from what he
was doing, muttered a quiet, “I’m fine. Go.”
Eli
went, though he wished he could have offered Calden a parting kiss or touch. The
nurse led him to Langton, who lost no time in putting Eli to work. As far as
attacks went, this one looked like it was more severe than the norm. Worse, demons
usually retreated when night ended, but maybe because of the cloud cover they kept
fighting come morning.
Wounded
soldiers had streamed in all night long and continued to come in during the
day. Eli barely had a moment to rest as he organized a schedule of breaks for
food and sleep for doctors, nurses and volunteers; if the attack went on all
the way through a second night, they all needed to breathe for a while.
Sometime
during all that, Calden’s third day awake started. Eli gave a call upstairs to
check and was told that, yes, Calden had stopped performing surgery and was now
supervising and assisting less-experienced doctors.
It
was another few hectic hours before Eli could grab two sandwiches, a couple of cups
of coffee—he was on his fifth one—and go find Calden. Eli let Calden finish the
surgery he was assisting then dragged him to a staff room to share the food and
drinks and make sure he was okay. They talked in quiet whispers, mindful of the
two people napping on the sofa and in a chair at the table. Calden seemed
clear-headed and keen on returning to the OR.
“Have
you caught any sleep?” he asked after Eli’s fifth yawn in a row.
“No
time,” Eli said, breaking into yet another yawn. “Langton needed me to have
everyone ready for nightfall. They expect a new wave of wounded to start
arriving soon.”
“You
can’t keep going like that,” Calden said. “You were ready for bed before we
even came here.”
“So
were you,” Eli pointed out.
Calden
shrugged. “I’m still fine. You’re not. You should go home. Get a few hours of
rest.”
“Go
home?” Eli chuckled humorlessly. “I can’t do that! Everyone’s been sleeping
where they can. We’ve got no time—”
“You’re
support staff,” Calden interrupted. “Langton can last a few hours without you. You’re
exhausted, you keep yawning, and your arm hurts. If you sleep in a chair,
you’ll just hurt more and won’t do as good a job when it all gets worse again. And,
yes, I will call to tell you if I start seeing things that aren’t there.”
Observing
Calden’s face carefully, Eli tried to find a good argument for why this was a
terrible idea, but he
was
exhausted and in pain, even if he tried to
ignore the prickling going through his arm as best he could.
“It’ll
be fine,” Calden insisted. “You take care of me day in and day out. Let me do
the same for you for once.”
The
brief squeeze of his fingers over Eli’s tipped the balance. As Calden returned
to work, Eli went to find Langton, who berated him for not taking a break sooner
and agreed that he should go home for a few hours.
He
almost fell asleep at the wheel, then again while eating his dinner of
leftovers. When he finally climbed into bed, he barely had time to tell himself
it would have been a lot more comfortable with Calden there to keep him warm
before he drifted toward sleep.
It
felt as though he’d just closed his eyes when the ringing of his phone woke
him, but a quick glance at the alarm clock told him it was now close to one in
the morning and he’d caught four hours of sleep. He fumbled to pick up the
phone from the night table, his stomach plummeting when he saw it was the
hospital calling.
“Is
he hallucinating?” he asked as soon as he picked up.
Already,
he was getting out of bed and gathering his clothes.
“No,
that’s not it,” Samford said with some reluctance. “I left him alone for a
moment and—”
Eli
froze, his heart in his throat as a dozen unlikely scenarios presented
themselves. Although, with Calden, even ‘unlikely’ didn’t mean impossible.
“—I’m
sorry, Eli. He fell asleep. I think he did it on purpose.”
Relief
came first. Falling asleep was a lot better than other things that had crossed
Eli’s mind, some of them involving needles.
Worry
was quick to follow. Calden, asleep at the hospital. When he’d wake up, he’d
have no idea how he had ended up there. Everyone knew about his condition, but
they had no clue how to guide him through those first few moments. A
disorientated, frustrated Calden was never a good thing.
Confusion
was last.
“What
do you mean, he did it on purpose?”
Samford
sighed softly. “We have a young woman here. Extensive internal damage. They
stabilized her on the way, but we need to operate soon. Calden wanted to do it
but—”
“He
was past two days awake,” Eli finished for her. “Fuck. Sorry. Damn it. How long
can she wait?”
“Not
long.”
“All
right.” Eli passed a hand over his face. “All right. Don’t wake him. He’d just
be confused and upset. Just… leave him alone and let him sleep. I’ll be there
as fast as I can. And prep the girl for surgery.”
He
hung up the call without waiting for Samford’s answer, got dressed in record
time, and less than five minutes after waking up he was stepping into a thin,
cold rain and hurrying to his car.
It being
the middle of the night, and during a demon attack to boot, the roads were
deserted—or almost. Three blocks from the hospital, he came across a military
patrol that demanded he stop and explain what he was doing out on the road at
this hour. Usually, all it took was for him to flash his hospital badge and the
patrol would let him be on his way. His badge, however, was still on the night
table, where he’d left it before collapsing in bed.